


Heather

by gretaamyk



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Song fic, Song: Heather (Conan Gray)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretaamyk/pseuds/gretaamyk
Summary: Y/n has a crush on Spencer, who she thinks has eyes for someone else. The truth comes out when she is kidnapped by a killer who broadcasts their victims diaries.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

The journal I kept felt heavy in my hands. The only thing that got to know the deepest parts of my brain, my every truth since high school. It was human nature to grow attached to the inanimate, sentiment was something that connected all of us. Even with animals who grew attached to their favorite toy. But even with the various explanations that validated me, I couldn’t help but feel silly by how hard it was for me to throw it away. 

It was just paper, I could do this.

I urged my hands to release the book, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It wasn’t just paper. It was my memories. It was the experiences I’ve had that built me into who I was today. 

I sighed as I found myself opening it again. I flipped it to one of the pages towards the beginning. I scanned the page.

January 4th

Today was my first day at the BAU. It’s strange, it almost doesn’t feel real because I’ve been working towards this moment my whole life… and now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do next. 

Everyone here is wonderful and welcoming. I’m not sure they’ve accepted me like family, but I’m hoping to get there eventually. Bonnie welcomed me in right away, pulling me into her ‘Batcave’ as she called it to ask about me and my life. I think we’re going to become best friends.

I smiled at the memory, more specifically at the codename. I grew up on crime shows and novels, its how I discovered my passion for my career. One of the more cartoonish things I learned from those shows alone, was this concept. I knew as that as an agent, there was always the risk of someone seeing this. Whether I pissed off someone or trusted the wrong person, It could happen. It could have just been my paranoia, I had nothing major to hide anyway, but I didn’t like the idea of someone finding this and immediately knowing everything there was to know about me. About my secrets, about my life. So as a precaution that I realize now is somewhat useless, I used code names. 

Bonnie was Penelope, after Bonnie and Clyde. We became best friends and partners in crime almost immediately.

I continued to read. 

Nikola was really sweet too. 

That was Spencer, after the inventor.

He was little awkward… very awkward, but sweet. And surprisingly attractive. He’s tall with brown eyes and funny looking hair, but cute. Smart too, one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. He has three PhD’s and he’s only 25. He’s out of my league in that way… But it’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be over him in a week.

I shut the book without finishing and dropped it in the trashcan without hesitation.

I’m sure I’ll get over him.

Yeah, good luck with that. 

I picked up my brown satchel and slung it on my shoulder, before leaving and locking the door behind me to go to work.

I had to throw my diary away because of our latest case. It was a killer who abducts his victims, and forces them to read their dairies that exposed their sins. Adultery, fraud, so many things that these people have done that they (stupidly) decided were appropriate to document in a book. Depending on how you feel about such methods of law and order, some could argue that these people had it coming. But his target shifted. A week ago he murdered a teenager who accidentally ran over a dog with her car. After that, a high school bully. Everything was streamed live and sent to us.

This is a strange case, dealing with an individuals morality. Their righteousness. Its odd because it deals with the question, is a murder justified if it was seemingly warranted? Even if it is, the killers definition of his justification was a line that blurred with each pull of his trigger. 

That was why I was instructed by my unit chief to dispose of the diary he knew I kept. I had little to no immoralities on my record. But as I learned from my job, with enough digging, we were all sinners.

And even beyond that, he seemed to grow less attracted to taking actions into his own hands, and more attracted to embarrassing his victims. The power was the only thing that stayed the same, and that was the heart of his mission. That feeling became his addiction.

But two questions never really escaped my mind since this case first started.  
Why would these people document their crimes on paper? It’s too easy.

But also, how would the killer know about it?

“We were too late to save Michael Tether, but the unsub is nowhere near done. He sees himself as a vigilante killer, he thinks that his kills were warranted by the victims actions.” Hotch explained as he paced around the conference room at the Police Station. This case was nearby, in Washington DC. This gave us the one up for familiarity. “Remember, this man is a master manipulator. He’s able to act normal, perhaps even charming. Rossi and I will go talk to the ME. Y/L/N and Reid, go speak to the victims family. Emily and Morgan check out the dumpsite, and JJ , examine the videos the killer released of Michael Tether, try to find anything useful.”

We all nodded a chorus of agreements, while I had to bite the inside my cheek to hold back the extremely inappropriate burst of excitement that my pairing provided me with. I didn’t expect to still get these crushes as an adult, especially one that lasted so long. If I was in middle school, I would be doodling his name into the pages of my diary, or seeing how well his last name went with my first. I didn’t do that, but he was consistently the main character in the story I wrote there. The most exciting part of my personal life, and the only one to know about it was Penelope. This however was the final nail in the coffin for my Journal. I would rather die than let Spencer discover what secrets I documented between its two hard covers.

The excitement, though, disappeared rather quickly. I watched Spencer’s eyes as JJ walked by. She was so beautiful, her smile was brighter than a blue sky. She placed her hand on his shoulder, something so innocent but capable of filling me with an unwelcome coldness. 

Spencer liked her, I could tell. He told me that he used to, but the way he acted around her hadn’t changed since then. He still watched her like she was an oasis for his wandering eyes. And I watched him as he did, feeling my heart break in my chest. But how could I blame her? I couldn’t. She was an angel.  
I gathered my stuff in my arms, not being able to help my eyes from watching as the near couple left together. 

I headed out to the front parking lot, waiting for Spencer to meet me. I leaned against the brick wall of the station. I saw him approaching me out of the corner of my eyes, so I turned my head and welcomed him with a soft smile.

“Ready to go?” I asked, standing up straighter from my slouched position against the wall. 

“Actually, Hotch changed his mind.” He explained, I furrowed my eyebrows and wet my lips with my tongue. “He asked me to help analyze footage with JJ.”

“…Oh.” I fidgeted with the strap of my bag, trying to hide the disappointment in my face.

“But, that cop over there,” He pointed to our SUV, there was a cop standing by it holding the keys. “He is going to the same place. I told him he could give you a ride because I felt bad… I-I hope that’s okay!" 

I smiled weakly back at him, "No problem. That big brain of yours is probably a better use behind a screen.” I teased, patting him on the shoulder as he wore fake offense on his face. I laughed before brushing him off to go inside. It was a bummer, but I was an adult and we were at work. I had bigger things to worry about. 

I approached the cop by the car. I’ve seen him around a lot these last couple days. I remembered him being introduced as… Daniel. Yes, Daniel. He was a little odd, but I was the only one on my team who seemed to think so. I shrugged it off. He was young, couldn’t have been any older than 25, so I figured that he was new to the police force and was just overly eager to be involved in a big case.

“Hi! Daniel, right?” I asked, holding my hand out for him to shake.

“Yeah, hey!” He accepted my handshake with a warm smile on his face. “Ready to go?” He asked, dangling the keys.

I nodded and ran around the car to the passengers seat. I would have proffered to drive, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. I got in and fastened my seatbelt, following as he did. He pulled the car out and drove onto the main road. 

“How long have you been a cop?” I asked as I pulled up the location on the GPS.

“Oh, just a few months. This is my first big case.”

“No kidding.” I laughed, turning again to look out the window.

We continued to make small talk for the course of the car ride. It was incredible how many times he made me laugh to the point of tears in the fifteen minutes we were alone together. He was incredible funny, and honestly kind of cute. If I didn’t know better, I might think that Spencer was trying to set me up. 

That seemed like something he might do. If never was the confrontational type, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he found out what I felt and he didn’t reciprocate, so he tries to pass me on to someone else. 

I furrowed my eyes at the thought. Just by how sad that thought made me, I realized that it wouldn’t work if he tried. Unfortunately (for the both of us), he wouldn’t be able to get rid of me that easy.

I blinked my focus to the GPS one more time on my phone, knowing we were nearing our destination. “Turn left up here for Michaels’s parent’s house.” I directed, gesturing to the street sign we were approaching. 

He kept going straight.

“You missed it.” I laughed, I pointed at the next turn further down the block, “Turn here, we can go around that way.”

He kept going straight, and this time, he pushed down on the gas and clicked the lock the doors. The sound was like a gunshot to my ears in terms of alarm. My heart sank and my eyes widened, all breath was gone from my lungs.

“What the hell are you doing?“ I grabbed onto the lock, trying to force it open, "Daniel, stop the car!”

I reached for the gun that I held in the holster at my hip. He reached to his at the same time and he used the back of his gun bluntly against my head. Then I was out.

-

“Reid, have you seen Y/n anywhere?” Emily’s voice startled me up from my place in front of the computer monitors. My exhausted brain struggled to process the question. She left with the cop. Wait. 

I looked at the watch on my wrist. She left three hours and twelve minutes ago. She should be back by now. I furrowed my eyebrows and darted my eyes throughout the small room we were in, as if she could have been in here the whole time. I looked back to Emily, so did JJ, who looked up from the notes she was writing down.

“Is… she not back yet?” I asked as if it wasn’t clear, rubbing the back of my neck with my hand. 

Her face lost color, shaking her head hesitantly no. I looked in between my two coworkers before sputtering out, “What about the cop? The one she left with?”

“We don’t know where he is either. Nobody’s heard from either of them since they left." 

I felt my heart drop in my chest. 

"We need to find Hotch.” She agreed before running to find our boss. I followed quickly behind her.

“Hotch!” I called, he turned over his shoulder, “ It’s Y/n… she’s gone.”

“What?” His stare was stoic and cold, but that wasn’t different from his normal, relaxed expression. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

“I mean what I said!” I scoffed. Emily let me do all the talking, which wasn’t rare, but it was in this context. I wasn’t the confrontational type, but this seemed to warrant an exception within my brain. “She left with a cop to go talk to Michael Tether’s family, and we haven’t heard from either one of them since.”

“Okay,” He responded straightening up and looking away. I bit my cheek, fighting back the urge to snap. 

Okay? What do you mean okay?

“They left in an registered SUV, we’ll be able to track it and find their location.” He proposed, before quickly turning over his shoulder to speak with the police chief.

I grabbed my phone and dialed her number. I knew that this was probably the first thing that Emily tried when looking for her, but a small voice in the back of my head hoped that I would be lucky. That this was all just one big misunderstanding, maybe the car battery died, or her phone’s and she lost track of time.

“Hey, this is Y/n,” I felt myself relax for the smallest fraction of a second before I realized it was her voicemail. “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave a message at the beep.” Dial tone.

I pulled my lower lip tightly between my teeth and dropped my arm back to my side. I looked around the room, trying to do something. But I was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything at all. This happened before, it happened whenever someone I cared about was in trouble. The weird thing was, we didn’t know for sure if she was in trouble, but for the years I’ve known her she’s never ignored a phone call. Ever. I didn’t know, but I felt it the same way a parent can feel that their child’s in trouble. A twin for their sibling. But in this case, it was me feeling that same pit in my stomach because of my coworker. My coworker that I’d been desperately in love with for six years, four months, and eight days. The day she started working at the BAU. 

The curse of an eidetic memory, I’m forced to remember everything. How on that day she tried her best to look professional, despite her young age. How she straightened her hair, wore a matching skirt and blazer with a satin dress shirt and heels. Then a month later when some of us had a group sleepover at Penelope’s, I saw her in her pajamas and natural hair and I remember her taking my breath away just as proficiently.

Secretly, the only reason I agreed to the sleepover was because she did.  
I remember holding her while she cried, I remember picking her up drunk, playing board games with her, movie marathons, everything. I remember everything, and it hurts me more than any hit I’ve ever taken. I wished that I could tell her how I felt, but I never did. I couldn’t help but immediately thing of the worst case scenario. We wouldn’t be able to save her. I never told her, and now she would never know.

Hotch came back. I looked up at him, hoping still that this was just a misunderstanding. 

“The SUV was tracked to the side of the road about a mile from Michael Tethers house.”

“Yeah?” I asked, perking back up, out of the place inside myself I receded so far into.

“No one was in it.”

The ground seemed to sway under my feet, causing me to stumble into one of the chairs that scattered messily around the floor. Emily fell to her knees beside me to assure me of the probably reality, radiating the energy of an overly concerned mother.

I didn’t have an overly concerned growing up. And I didn’t need one now.  
“I sent her with him. She told me she thought he was creepy, she told all of us!” I sat up and leaned into my knees, rubbing my my face with frustrated hands. “We ignored her!” I moved my hands, looking at emily with wide, fearful eyes. I was angry. Angry at myself. “And I sent her with him!”

“We don’t know that’s what happened.” She tried to alleviate, but it wasn’t helping and I think we both knew that. “We don’t know if she’s in trouble or not.”  
“Y/n always answers her phone.” I choked back tears. “I don’t think she’s okay.” My voice cracked, and I saw Emily’s face physically react to the desperation on my voice.

“We’re going to find her.” She assured, but she was clearly not sure. She wanted to make me feel better, but I was a profiler too and I could see through it.

I swore and shook my head in attempt to clear it. I stood up and started towards the files on the case. I needed to relax and do my job, I knew that. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get anything done from that chair. But I also knew that I was never particularly useful when it was my friends who were in trouble. My emotions would get the best of me. My body was filled to the brim with guilt. With regret.

“Hotch!” JJ yelled loudly from the computer room, prompting not only Hotch, but the whole team to race into the room that wasn’t fit to hold all of us.

On the screen was a live broadcast from the Diary Killer. A woman bound tightly to a chair in the same setting as all of the previous victims. It was her.  
All of us fell silent, though the drumming of my heart was almost loud enough to fill the silence.

Her eyes were frantic. She thrashed in her restraints, and then winced at the pain it caused. She took deep breaths to calm down, and it seemed to work. Then her eyes fell onto the camera. I saw a flash of recognition in her eyes as if she was looking at me instead of recording equipment.

She spoke out a single word that usually filled me with a childlike joy and warmth. But this time, it sent cold shivers down my spine. 

“S-Spencer..?”

-

The feeling of warm sunlight on my face was welcoming when I first woke up. It was enough to make me forget about where I was and what happened, if only for a second. 

Spencer once told me that that moment of forgetting is a blessing. That if you were in mourning, that moment in which you forget that the person you lost is no longer there is what helps you survive. You heal by learning how to make that moment last. I hoped to God that it worked for this too. Because that moment was gone the second I felt it the harshness of reality, coupled with the pounding feeling against my skull where that piece of shit hit me with his gun. 

At least he only hit me with it.

I tested the strength of my restraints by wiggling my hands. I winched at the feeling, the fiber’s friction burned against my tender flesh. I must have been tied up longer than I imagined if my wrists were already raw. I was bind by my ankles as well, and with some strained wiggling, I figured out the chair was nailed to the ground. I cursed before blowing the hair away from my face, only for it to flutter back to its previous place in front of my eye. 

My hair was now red with my own blood. My breathing picked up from the growing panic in my body, even though every single breath stung. 

No. Calm down. I forced myself to slow down my breathing, using a technique I learned as a child. Panicking helps nothing.

Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. It was meant to help during anxiety triggering situations, though right now, that was the understatement of the year. 

I blinked back my focus as I breathed, and I examined the room to try to find something (anything) useful. It looked like I was in a shed, sans any tools or machinery because that would make things too easy for me. I realized immediately that it wasn’t just any shed either, the shed from the videos of all of the recent murders that were streamed to the FBI. There was a camera on a tripod pointed directly at me, it was a surprisingly high quality set up. The red light was blinking. 

The team was watching me.

“S-Spencer..?” I gasped out the first word that came to mind. 

Part of me hoped he didn’t have to see me like this. Dirty and weak, tied up like a dog. But the rational side of me knew that besides me, he was my best shot at getting out of here. For my life’s sake, I needed him to see everything. 

I heard movement walking through the grass outside through the open window.  
“It’s Daniel!” I whisper yelled to the camera, “Daniel!”

I forced myself to pull my eyes away from the camera. The camera wasn’t Spencer, it was equipment. But it was the closest thing I had to him because I knew he was just on the other side.

The door opened loudly and I jumped out of my skin, despite the fact that I was anticipating his arrival.

He wore all black. Jeans, a coat, boots, and an anonymous mask. I swallowed with every step he took towards me. They were slow, but loud from the heels of his boots against the creaky floorboards.

“Hi there, Y/n.” He cooed in a way that urged an unintentional shutter to trickle down my spine. He stepped directly in front of me. I saw his dark brown eyes through the eye holes mask. I didn’t let myself look away. 

It was embarrassing. Those same eyes I found so endearing up until they weren’t. 

Hotch told me specifically not to trust anyone, that he would be charming. I trusted, and I had to pay for it.

He turned around to face the camera and waved, not worrying about identification because of his safety behind the mask. 

How stupid could this guy be? Leaving me alone while on camera with the FBI, especially since I knew who he was? He was overly confident, and that was going to be his downfall. Mask or not, we knew who he was.

“Hi friends at the FBI!” He continued, before using his gloved hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. I squeezed my eye shut, straining my neck as I tried to move away from his sickening touch. He rebutted by harshly grabbing my shoulder and yanking me back in place. “I know that sweet Y/n, here, isn’t my normal… catch.” He continued to pet me like a dog. He seemed to enjoy the way I trembled.

“But, an FBI agent who keeps a diary? I mean, Come on!” He laughed, the pure joy in his voice churned my stomach. “That was an opportunity too good to pass up. She’s a good girl. Nothing murderous I can expose her for… But that being said, she’s got some secrets that I’m dying to spill.”

I opened my eyes only when I felt something land in my lap. My diary. I let out a shaky breath. No, he can’t make me read this. Not to him. 

I heard another rustling of clothes and when I looked up, I was staring down the barrel of a gun. But still, it didn’t strike nearly as much fear in my heart as the dreadful anticipation of what I knew was coming. 

“Come on, Sweetie,” He clicked the safety off the gun. “Read.”


	2. Chapter 2

I felt my stomach drop even deeper down inside me than I thought it could go. It was unbelievable how common this was in our line of work. We’ve all had guns pointed at us, we’ve almost all been kidnapped. If it was anything else, we would be used to it by now. But this was something that would never stop eliciting that sickening feeling of torment and fear in all of us. I was nauseous. It felt like it was me in that chair, but it wasn’t. God, I wish that it was me. But it had to be Y/n instead, and there was nothing I could do at this moment in time besides watch. Y/n was the bravest person I’ve ever met. She was strong, she stared down the barrel of his gun and greeted death like it was an old friend. But I knew her and I could tell that on the inside she was terrified. 

He clicked off the safety. 

My jaw clenched. I was going to get this guy’s head on a stick.

“Come on, Sweetie. Read.” The man, who Y/n had informed us was Daniel, commanded sharply. It was Daniel. I was right, and I felt guiltier than OJ Simpson. I sent her away with him, I put her in that fucking car. Maybe I was just as bad as him.

His voice was distorted, a simple precaution used to avoid identification. But it didn’t matter.We already knew who he was. All it did now was add disturbing theatrics, making their voices sound like that of a killer in a horror movie. The anonymous mask he wore signified that he still considered himself a vigilante, despite the many clear lines he’s crossed.

She hesitantly looked down at the diary that sat ominously in her lap. She looked up at the camera, and I felt like she was looking straight at me when guilt and hesitance washed over her face as it paled.

“Go.” He commanded simply. 

Please, Y/n, just do it. He has the gun.

We all watched silently, the tension in the room was suffocating. Or maybe it was just the fact that I wasn’t breathing, both were true.

His free hand gripped the leather bound pages and opened it. Even through the dirty grain of the camera, I could see hundreds of worn in pages. I didn’t even know she kept a diary. I thought I knew everything about her, but with each second I spent watching I learned that I didn’t know as much as a I thought I did. He flattened it out and pointed at a specific page.

“Start at the most recent entry,” Daniel said, his voice showed signs of clear amusement, he was enjoying himself, and it made my blood boil. “That way the viewers at home know that this is all still relevant.”

I subconsciously pulled the tips of my fingers up to my lips. 

Y/n looked up at the screen one more time, before blinking tightly and pulling her eyes back to the words.

“I…” She cleared her throat. “I still remember that day, December third of last year…” She looked up nervously at the camera, before hesitating and looking back down. I remember that day too. It was snowing in Wisconsin and she had packed for the spring. She was freezing and I gave her my old Caltech sweaters. She looked adorable in it, it was practically a dress on her. She told me she would give it back, and she still hasn’t. But it’s okay because just knowing she has it makes me feel warmer than that sweater ever could.

“Ni…Nikola gave me his old sweater from college. It was a case in Wisconsin, and h-he wanted to help… I didn’t pack as well as I should have.” Her voice cracked at the name she spoke, though her voice was already shaky. Nikola. 

Everyone made such an obvious effort to avoid looking at me, but it made me feel like I had 100 eyes on me at once. But I didn’t care. Nikola Tesla had been the subject of our conversations since day one, I knew that she was talking about me… but why would she be? 

“He said it looked b-better on me than it did him. Only if he knew how much…” She cleared her throat again, “How much… I like him.”

My jaw dropped and the air left my lungs like a deflating balloon. Emily snuck a glance at me, but I caught it. She quickly turned back to the screen.

What the hell?-No, there’s no time for that, Spencer, focus.

“He knew so much about everything, but this, h-he knew nothing. He gave me his sweater, it’s just cheap polyester, but it may as well be made of… made of of gold in terms of how m-much I treasure it…But he doesn’t care.”

My eyebrows furrowed. I took in her words, and I felt myself stray away from my concentration. I forgot just how bad it was, instead, we were here together and I couldn’t stop myself from telling her how wrong she was.

I cared for her more than I have for any person before, I still do. I was clueless, I know that now. But clearly, so was she.

“I watched his eyes as she walked by…” I saw now that she was crying. She was trying to blink away the tears, to show that she wasn’t scared. But with her hands bound, she had no choice but to let the tears drip down her cheeks like rain drops on a car window. “She was as gorgeous as ever. She had him mesmerized while I felt my heart rip out of my chest. I still have that sweater, I’m wearing it now, but he likes her better.

God… do I wish I was Heather.”

What? Who’s Heather? I tried to think of who that could possibly be. I hadn’t felt anything for anyone besides Y/n in years. Did she really think that there was someone else?

But a single sound broke me out of my analysis, a sound that was enough to make my heart disintegrate in my chest like a decaying animal.

He fired the gun. 

“No!” My voice was quiet and broken, but felt just as loud as it could have been screaming. I threw my hands into my hair and pulled at it like I was trying to rip it out. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t process it. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and threatened to fall and break any composure that I had left.

But then she gasped, she moved. She exhaled quick but heavy sighs of relief, tears were still streaming down her face.

He shot blanks.

I felt all the muscles in my body relax. I gave into my instincts, letting myself sink into the floor, not even caring about how dirty it was. I cupped my face in my hands.

No matter how badly the sound of her tears hurt me, it was better than the sound of silence. She was hurting, and I wanted nothing more than to make it all go away, but she was alive. She was alive.

The video ended, and I was selfishly even more relieved. I couldn’t see it, it was like it wasn’t real. Like it was a movie that ended and it wasn’t important anymore. That’s what I wanted to believe. She was coming back, she was safe… But she wasn’t.

“Get Garcia down here. Now.” Hotch commanded, getting up and walking out of the room. The room cleared quickly after him, leaving me alone with JJ.

“Spence…” Her voice was soft and sympathetic, and it annoyed me because it wasn’t useful right now. 

“Don’t, Jennifer, please.” I picked myself up off the floor and down in front of the computer. I was going to find her if it was the last thing I did. JJ sighed. I only used her full name when I was frustrated. She hesitated before following the rest of the team out. I was alone again.

I placed the headphones on my ears and started up the audio. 

I played it, and I listened for anything that could be useful. Then I listened again, and again. But then after what felt like an eternity listening to the worst thing I’ve ever heard, I finally found an irregularity.

“Emily!” I called out, “Come listen to this!”

“Not Emily, but I can do you one better.” I turned around to see Penelope. A tired, angry Penelope. “Why the hell did no one tell me Y/n was gone? Did you think I wouldn’t care? She’s my best friend! Did I not deserve to know?”

“I-”

‘“No, shut up.” She cut me off. She sat down next to me and unplugged the headphones. I pressed play, a distorted noise that appeared immediately after the gunshot echoed. I paused it and looked up at her expectantly. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“What does that sound like?” I asked. She shrugged.

“I don’t know, Hell, maybe?” 

I shook my head and pointed at the spike in the audio. “Right here. Is it possible to seclude it and clean it?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” She grabbed the keyboard and slid it in front of her. With the tapping of her buttons she was able to do what I asked and when she pressed play. Our eyes widened. It was still semidistorted but it was indistinguishable. It was a flock of sheep bleating. She was on a farm.

“Holy shit, Batman!” She gasped, “You did it!”

“Were not done.” I stood up out of the chair, “It’s been three hours since she was taken, which means that she is probably being held somewhere within a radius of 242.33 miles. Check for farms and livestock in that area.” I spoke, getting up and leaving the room, “Also try to get information off of Daniel.”

“I can’t do both at the same time, Spencer!”

I turned around, “I’m going to need you to try.”

She looked at me over her shoulder, before wetting her lips hesitantly and nodding. 

“Will do.”

I left and walked into the conference room, seeing pictures and a map pinned up to the board. 

It was Y/n’s picture hung up with the rest of the victims. It made my stomach turn seeing her there. She didn’t belong there. 

I remember the day that picture was taken. It was the first Saturday we had off in weeks, so we all dressed up and got ready for dinner. She was wearing this Ivy Green cocktail dress and it brought out the color in her eyes beautifully. She had these new high heels that were painful and blistering, she complained about them the whole night. But she didn’t take them off because she said she liked being tall. She wasn’t tall, not even with those heels, but I wasn’t going to say anything because it made her so happy. I loved that dress. In fact, I imagined when I finally asked her out on a date, I was going to ask her to wear it. But after this, I don’t know if I’d be able to associate that dress with that happy night anymore. I wouldn’t be able to associate it with drinking, or bad singing or even worse dancing. Instead, I will see that dress and only think of how it looked on this damned investigative chart. 

I shook the thoughts out of my head. 

“Reid.” Hotch’s stern voice prompted me to turn over my shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“The SUV was found on Y/n’s street, and her car is gone.”

I blinked. She carpooled to work today, which means that they had to have gone to her house so he could switch the cars and try and go undetected. Still I asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means that for the timeline to line up, they are at least an hour closer than we thought and we can narrow the search if we put her house at the center of the geographic profile.” He explained. I furrowed my eyebrows, but just nodded and urged him to continue. “But in order for us to know that, we need to confirm they were at her house.”

“I have a key!” I exclaimed, picking up my satchel for emphasis.

“Yes, that’s why I’m asking you to come with. Plus, you know her the best out of all of us, maybe you’d notice something we wouldn’t.”

I hesitated, and quickly swiped my tongue over my lips before pointing out, “We’ve profiled him as an organized unsub, how do you know we’ll find anything?”

“He’s devolving, and he’s doing it rapidly. We will find something.”

We cut the hour car ride into just under forty minutes. I hopped out of the SUV once we reached the cement of her driveway, before the car even fully stopped. I started towards the house, but stopped, seeing the other SUV out of the corner of my eye. There was blood on the passenger side of the window, and some on the ground leading up to where her car was supposed to be.

I forced myself to look away, and I tried to swallow my nerves.

“Reid!” Emily called, I turned over my shoulder and she was gesturing to Y/n’s opened front door. I furrowed my eyebrows and ran over, following Emily and Hotch into the house.

I’ve been in here many times, but never like this. There was the couch we watched disney movies on, and there was the chessboard still set up from the last time we played. 

But then, there was a trash can and it’s entire contents dumped out onto her floor. 

“Well, there’s your proof.” Emily said to Hotch, he agreed and continued to walk around the house.

“Why would she go through her trash?”

“I told her to get rid of her diary.” He responded, his eyes examining the trash on the floor. “She probably just threw it away.”

How would he know where to find it? How would he…

My eyes widened. I looked up at the ceiling and walls, and then ran to the bookshelf on her wall. My two older coworkers watched me curiously as I frantically moved books and clutter out of the way.

“What are you looking for?” Emily asked, moving closer.

But then I found it. My hands wrapped around the black material and ripped it out of the wall. I laid it out in my palm and showed them.

“Cameras.” I said plainly. I picked it up and examined it closer, they just watched, “We’ve seen this kind before. Robert Johnson hid these around his victims’ houses and recorded himself killing them. Remember? That’s how he knew she kept a diary, and that’s how he knew where she put it.”

Hotch and Emily looked at eachother, and then they turned back to me.

“We need to look for more.”

-

After examining the room head to toe, we found that there were only two cameras. It was disgusting that there were any at all, but what was worse was that one of them was pointed at her bed. He saw her changing, he saw her sleeping. I felt sick. 

But then I found it. My sweater. I furrowed my eyebrows and picked it up off the floor.

It was a dark blue Caltech sweater. It was big on me, and it was absolutely gigantic on her. It was adorable. 

I frowned at the memory. Not that it wasn’t a good memory, but because it was so good that I was sad that we had to deal with something so tragic today instead. 

“Are you going to take it back?” Emily’s voice was as gentle as the fabric between my fingers. I looked at her, but then looked back at the sweater. I shook my head no.

“I couldn’t do that.” I folded the sweater neatly, and then placed on her neatly made bed. “Let’s go.”

“Should we leave, though?” Emily asked, looking between Hotch and I. “Based on the geographic profile, we’re closer to Y/n here than we are at the station. We’d be wasting time by going back if we’re just going to drive back out right away.”

“Good point. Reid, call Garcia to see if she’s made any progress on the farm lead.”

As if on queue, my phone started to ring. I accepted the call and Immediately put Garcia on speaker.

“Talk to me.”

“Okay, my friends, his name is Daniel Hanson, he joined the police force two weeks ago, but he has some pretty impressive hacking skills, and it turns out he’s not actually a real cop. He managed to forge his credentials.”

I didn’t care about that, anything besides where he was keeping her was irrelevant right now.

“How would he connect to livestock? Did he grow up on or inherit a farm?”

“I’m getting to that.” She said, I could feel her

rolling her eyes through the phone but I ignored it. “His parents owned a farm that focused primarily on sheep and cattle, but that’s not anywhere near here.”

I squinted as I thought. “Are his parents alive? Is it possible he inherited the sheep and he relocated with them?”

I heard keys clicking rapidly through the phone. “Smarty pants, you’re right. His dad died a year ago from cancer, and his mom just went off the grid.”

“Is there a way to track where the sheep went?” I felt ridiculous saying that, I didn’t think that I’d ever need to track sheep in my line of work. But here we are.

“There’s always a way, my love, I’ll get back to you in five. Ciao,”

It took less than three minutes for her to call back.

“Anything?” I asked, rubbing my face tiredly in my hands.

“We’ve got an address.”


	3. Chapter 3

The way the sunlight shone through the long, pale grass gave the illusion that it was glowing. It’s beams felt warm on my skin, and I allowed my eyes to flutter open like the tired wings of a butterfly. I sat up, looking around at my surroundings, a place that seemed so familiar, yet somehow too general to identify. But then my eyes landed on the house ahead of me and I recognized immediately that I was at my grandmother’s house from my childhood. 

I picked myself up off the floor, and then I noticed the clothes I was wearing. It was a pale green gingham dress, one that matched closely with the picnic blanket I found myself on. I didn’t own anything like it. 

I heard movement weaving through the grass behind me, I turned quickly over my shoulder to face it.

“Spencer?” I gasped, my voice quiet, but healed. He approached closer and my eyes absorbed the clothes he wore, tailored suiting which reminded me almost of Laurie from the novel Little Women. A book both of us have read. It wasn’t his style, but I vouched for it so strongly that he asked to borrow my copy. Part of me wondered if he read it because I loved it so much.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, but then something passed through my mind like an apparition and my eyes widened at the thought. “Am I…” I looked down at my hands. They were clean and soft, my nails were manicured. This wasn’t right. Memories came back to me. I wasn’t here right now, I was on the floor of a grimy tool shed, bloodied and beaten. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t right. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “A-Am I dead?”

“No.” He said, stopping in front of me. He looked as perfect as usual, he looked so real. “But you will be if you don’t wake up”

I pulled my cheek between my teeth and I looked around. It was so beautiful here compared to the outside world, and Spencer was here with me. I spoke without thinking, but I guess that since I was in my own subconscious I couldn’t hide behind a filter. “I don’t want to wake up…” I looked back up to him, tears beading in my eyes. “I want to be with you”

”You’ll find me there, too, I promise.” His hands grabbed mine, “You’ll always find me.”

I pulled my hands away.

”Not in the same way… listen, I don’t want to die because you don’t love me, this isn’t Shakespeare. But… I’m so tired Spencer… I don’t think that I can handle this much longer.” I choked out. I could feel the tears spilling delicately down my cheeks so clearly that I wondered if I was crying in real life. In my sleep, tied up and bloody, crying on the filthy floor. “But here, it can be the two of us… and we could be happy.”

“It wouldn’t be real. I’m not real.”

I know. 

I laughed sadly, pulling myself away from him and turning to look at the water. I haven’t been here in years, but I remembered it perfectly.

“Sit with me,” I commanded delicately. “Look at the view.”

I sat down on the picnic blanket and I patted the space next to me. Spencer sighed before begrudgingly sitting down. He wasn’t real, but he was a fantastic actor. I gestured forward.

Beyond the hills of the houses, there was a lake down below, splitting the city into two. In the ravine, boats and sailors drifted through like it was a parade, and on the other side, city lights started to flicker on one by one as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

Big trees framed my view, Evergreens. Trees and that remained healthy and youthful year round. It was morbidly ironic how my brain wanted to imagine something that was a metaphor for eternal life, while my own life slowly faded away like sunset itself.

“It’s beautiful,” He admitted, “But… imagine how it’ll look if you take me here in real life one day.”

I laughed a small, sad laugh. “You wouldn’t want to come.” I said like it was a fact.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” I furrowed my eyebrows and turned my head to look at him more directly. I scanned his face, but it wasn’t giving me anything. He sighed, “Please. Just wake up.”

I don’t want to wake up.

“Wake up.”

“Wake up.” Daniel’s voice was an alarm clock and the taste of blood in my mouth was my breakfast. I blinked, my ears were ringing. I found myself on the floor but still restrained securely to the chair. The weight of my pounding head was too much to hold, it felt like it was left behind when Daniel grabbed the chair and put me stably upright. I looked up at him through my hair, wet and dyed red from blood. The air escaped my lungs as I remembered.

I remember his glove clad fists collided with my jaw, as well as the unnerving cracking sound that followed it. I couldn’t remember what I did to prompt it, but based on his profile I didn’t seem to need to do much to provoke him. I remember my vision going black as I hit the rotting floor.

I wasn’t sure if it was an attempt at intimidation, or if I was willing to accept my fate, but my eyes managed to stay unlock-able on Daniels. They were deep brown, and they somehow (at least on paper) resemble Spencer’s to a point where it scared me. I saw Spencer through the eyes holes of the ski mask. I saw Spencer behind the trigger of the gun that I barely processed was there at all.. My subconscious longed for him and it projected him onto anything like it was a movie theater. Against all efforts my body and mind made to stay untouchable, my eyes started to leak hot tears, and a voice at the back of my head begged him to pull the trigger. I shook both of them away.

“Ready to write the script for Episode Two?” He asked. His voice was so cheerful that it churned my stomach. 

I blinked and furrowed my eyebrows. 

“Episode Two?” I asked, despite not truly wanting to know.

He threw my journal back into my lap, I looked down at it with a sick stomach and a confused mind. He then threw a pen after it. He wanted me to write another entry. 

“I’m going to untie your hands. Not your feet, don’t get too excited,” He spoke, “And you are going to write the exact words that come out of my mouth. Understand?” 

I spat at him, bloody saliva that he dodged easily away from and laughed as if I played a prank. I furrowed my eyebrows as he approached and he disappeared behind me. His hands worked to untie the ropes and once they collected on the floor, feeling started from back in my aching hands and I stretched out my fingers to encourage blood flow. 

Then the gun was pointed back at my head as he reappeared, so hesitantly I grabbed the pen and opened the book to a fresh page. It was no longer fresh, though. It was covered in dirt, an unidentifiable moisture, and some of my own blood.

Then the cogs in my mind started turning. 

He had his victims write new entries, word for word, exactly what he tells them to write. I had wondered before why these people would write their crimes down in a journal, but now I realize, there weren’t any crimes committed at all! They were fabricated as a ruse for Daniel to play the vigilante! They were innocent!

Oh shit, they were innocent… 

That means that the profile was… wrong. If the profile is wrong, they could be looking somewhere else entirely.

My breath picked up as worry filled my body. Worry and an uncertainty in my team that I had never felt before. I felt guilty thinking about it, but I couldn’t help it. 

Shakily, I scribbled a line onto the paper to make the ink start. My eyes furrowed as I examined the ink, it didn’t look at ink at all. It looked like… no.

I brought the page up to my nose and sniffed.

It was blood.

My breath picked up but I tried to hold it back. I looked up at him and that disturbing pride in his eyes told me that I was right. I swallowed. I couldn’t react. But another question contaminated the entirety of my mind like an oil spill. Was the blood… mine? Or was it someone else’s?

Which one was worse?

“Okay, start with the date,” He said, sitting down next to me like I was his stenographer. I shamefully couldn’t write. His smile was enough to rub in the fact that I no longer knew what day it was. It was like when you woke up after a nap and you weren’t sure what planet you were on, but this was worse because it wasn’t just a nap. It was getting knocked out with the back of a shovel. “It’s June 15th.” 

June 15th? It was still… today? I looked out the window and I saw the sun setting over the pasture of grass. Spencer could probably tell me the exact time based on the position of the sun, but my less accurate (but still best) guess was it was around 7:00 pm. It’s been around 6 hours since I’ve been gone. 

“I know what day it is.” I lied as if it could do me any good and I scribbled down the date.

“Sure you do.” 

I rolled my eyes.

“Okay write exactly what I tell you, okay?” He said, he crossed his legs like he was lounging in a pool chair. If it was any other situation, it would have been amusing. “I came home from work today… and I couldn’t stop thinking about Nikola.”

I narrowed my eyes as I tried to see where he was taking this.

“That doesn’t sound like me.” I interrupted, an idea coming into my mind.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I’m the one with the gun.” He gestured with the gun like it was a toy. He loved the theatrics, we already knew that, but it only became more prominent with every second I spent with him. At least that part of the profile was right.

But that’s where the idea came in.

“No, they’re my coworkers… they’re my friends. They’ll notice if it’s not my own words.”

His eyes narrowed, “…Why are you trying to help? What do you get out of this?”

Well, I can send a message to my team so they can help me escape your dumb ass. 

“Nothing…” I lied, “I don’t get anything.”

His eyes scanned my face. They squinted in a way that reminded me of Spencer. They would squint when he was confused, which was funny because out of the two of us, he was always talking about things out of my comprehension. He was so smart. I just prayed that he was smart enough to find me.

“You know what, you’re right.” Daniel agreed. My entire body relaxed, but I tried my best to not display it. “Use your own words, but I still get to decide the plot.”

Dumbass.

He made me write the “plot”, and that was all it was. It wasn’t real what I was writing, but the nearly painful feeling it filled me with was real. I couldn’t read this out loud, I couldn’t… not to him.

I wished that I was back asleep.

I could feel the warmth beating down on me like I was truly there. I felt the warmth of Spencer. Let me go back to sleep.

But here all there was was Daniel’s cold presence, the embarrassing words in my notebook, quite literally written in blood, and sheep… sheep. Fuck! That’s a good clue!

But the question was… how do I incorporate sheep into Daniels fan fiction?

-

The car couldn’t go fast enough. The siren was on, the cars were pulled over so we could pass through, but everything still felt like it was in my way.

The ride to Y/n’s location was an hour away from her apartment, but half an hour into it, we were almost there. It was sickening to think about. This man who has been hurting so many people— hurting her, had been so close this entire time. She could have seen him before today, she could have spoken to him, all without knowing what she was capable of. She didn’t know all the way up until it was too late. 

I noticed my breath growing errant and un-patterned, and I quickly shook my head and closed my eyes to rid myself from the thoughts.

Hotch was driving. I never drove, and especially not now considering the way I couldn’t focus on anything for longer than four seconds. Following us were more agents and a team of medics. But then, I saw our arrow on the GPS was budding into his territory. I quickly turned off the siren before he would be able to hear it. Hotch glanced at me, I nodded in return. He stepped even further onto the gas pedal.

My phone rang and I picked up faster than the car was moving. 

“Hello?” I asked urgently.

“He’s live again. I’m watching her now.” Penelope’s voice spoke through the receiver. She sounded uncomfortable. For her, that was normal but it made me increasingly nervous. I put the phone on speaker.

“Hotch?” She asked, “Do I need to be here for this?”

“Why?” I asked before Hotch could, “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”

“S-She looks a little beat up, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

I looked between Hotch and Emily. I swallowed and opened my mouth to speak, but every thought I had wasn’t coherent enough to ask anything useful. They just died on my tongue so I swallowed them back down.

“What’s the problem?” Emily asked for me, leaning in closer from the back seat. Normally, she would have fought me for shotgun and I would inevitably lose. But everyone was walking on eggshells around me. It was almost annoying, but with everything happening, damn right I deserve shotgun.

“Oh god,” Penelope muttered, “She’s clearly nervous, but I don’t think it’s because of Daniel, It’s-It’s what he’s making her read… It’s, like, super personal, and I feel icky listening in. I feel like a perv.”

“I’m going to need you to stay.” Hotch said. Penelope sighed. “You need to be there to tell us anything important.”

“She said that she feels like a lamb to slaughter, so it looks like we’re right about the sheep thing.”

“Okay, anything else?”

“The rest is just… uhm… Reid, cover your ears.”

“No, we don’t need to know.” Hotch shook off, “Call us if anything changes.”

The call ended and I looked dumbly down at the phone.

“What?” I exhaled, looking up at Emily. She wet her lips uncomfortably. “What is she implying?”

“Daniel is trying to induce maximum embarrassment in Y/n. Whatever he’s having her read, he wanted all of us to hear it. Luckily, for I believe all of our sakes, it’s just Penelope.” Hotch said.

“Poor Penelope.” Emily mumbled. 

No offense to her, but Penelope’s comfort was the least of my worries right now.

“Here.” Hotch stated as he pulled into the driveway, cursing as the sheep began to bleat.

I hopped out of the car and looked around.

“In the video it didn’t look like a house,” I thought out loud.

“It could have been in the basement.” Emily suggested, but I shook my head.

“No, it had too much light for that, it’s above ground…” My eyes rapidly examined the entirety of the property, looking past the house, the grass and sheep. They landed on a shed that was far into the property, hidden poorly behind trees and shrubbery but still visible.

“There!” I yelled, running towards the structure with my two superiors at my heels. My gun was drawn, but pointed at the ground at my side as I moved. 

I stopped right outside the door, listening into the room. I heard Y/n speaking. Her voice was shaky and nervous, and I was nervous too. I looked to Hotch, he nodded. I opened the door and pointed my gun to the man with the mask. 

Y/n looked at me but I had to ignore her. But I took in the way relief washed over her, a smile spread across her face. Only to dissipate again once Daniel maneuvered himself to hide behind her, pointing the gun at her head. Her eyes squeezed shut and her breathing hitched.

“Lower your weapon, Daniel!” I commanded, narrowing my eyes. Hotch and Emily moved to either side of me, all of us pointing our guns at him… and at Y/n. She knew none of us would ever hurt her, but I could tell that being at the center of four different guns wasn’t settling well with her, as it would for anyone. I wanted to apologize to her, but that would have to wait.

“I did what I had to do!” He tried to refute. He was acting, trying to keep his cover of a vigilante. But we all knew better.

“No you didn’t, Daniel, the people you killed were innocent. You forged those diary entries.” I stated the facts that we managed to gather in the car ride here. 

His expression didn’t drop, in fact… It looked like he was smiling. He removed his mask and tossed it to the side. He was smiling and it churned my stomach.

“You know what? Maybe I did,” He laughed, “But you know what I didn’t have to fake?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“I didn’t have to fake anything that Y/n wrote.” He smiled brightly, running his tongue grossly across his teeth. “Everything was written in her own words! And I mean… everything. Shall I elaborate?”

“No,” Hotch said, clearly not wanting to know. I didn’t want to know either, no matter how curious I was. Y/n looked so embarrassed that it seemed to overpower the fear.

“She wrote about touching herself.” Daniel continued despite the disapproval. Y/n’s face twisted. “Shoving her hand into those twisted little panties of hers, which are surprisingly hard to get into. Trust me,” 

Y/n’s face dropped and she turned to him, tears brimmed her eyes. She didn’t know… he did it while she was unconscious. I was growing more angry with every word he spoke. The idea of him touching her, of seeing her in that way when she was so vulnerable. He continued, and I debated saying fuck it and take the shot.

“She did that, thinking to herself about an agent named- What was it?” He asked Y/n as if she would ever give an answer. “Ah, yes. Nikola.” He turned his face to look at us. They looked at Hotch, then Emily, and they ended on me. He smiled. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

I narrowed my eyes, “That’s not my name.” I answered, despite his truth.

“Oh, I know. I know a code name when you see it. You’re Dr. Spencer Reid, born in Las Vegas.” He smiled darkly, “You have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187. Your daddy left you when you were a little boy and your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic that doesn’t even know she has a son anymore.” 

My blood was boiling.

“Drop your gun, Daniel.” I spoke slowly, angrily.

“I know everything there is to know about you. Your whole team. But the one thing I just can’t wrap my head around is what makes you so goddamn special. Why she wants you so bad. In fact, when I first saw you, I didn’t think you were the type to, you know… speak to girls.”

“Drop the fucking weapon!” I swore, aiming my gun more directly at his head. I weighed the probability of a perfect shot. But before I could decide, Y/n was out of her chair, having took advantage of his distraction. She kicked him in the leg and he started to collapse back, but then he took the shot.

It hit her.

I fired immediately, the bullet went directly through his skull.

“We need a medic! Agent down!” Emily called as I ran to Y/n. She was on the floor with a blood pooling below her.

“I’m okay,” Y/n gasped through tears, “It’s just my arm.”

I fell to my knees beside her, not being able to speak. My hands became a tourniquet around her arm, she winced and let her head fall heavily against the dirty floor.

“You don’t have to be okay.” I spoke finally, my voice cracking. She opened her eyes and hesitantly locked them on mine. It was the first time she looked me in my eyes. They were embarrassed and teary and my heart ached, but I was overcome with a sense of relief because she was alive. She was protected. She would be protected for the rest of her life.

I looked down at the wound again, exhaling harshly at the blood.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” She cried. I frowned.

“What are you apologizing for? Don’t be sorry,” I choked, hesitating before placing my hand on her stomach. She tensed up at my touch but quickly relaxed. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have let this happen to you.”

“Oh, Spence,” She laughed, wiping the tears in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but we were interrupted by the medics. They came and shoved me out of the way, I obliged immediately. But then Hotch put his hands on my chest and guided out of the shed.

“Hotch!” I argued, peaking over his shoulders to see her. But the only thing I saw was Daniel’s corpse on the floor. I hoped she wasn’t looking at him.

“Let them fix her up, talk to her after.” He said, patting me on the shoulder and walking away. As he went, he mumbled, “Seems like you have a lot to talk about.”

Heat came into my cheeks, though he was right. So I waited behind as they guided Y/n into the ambulance. She sat in the back, the doors open as the medics tweezed the bullet from her arm. She winced, but as I watched, she seemed too relieved to worry about the pain. They bandaged up her arm, and then they left her alone. 

-

I sat in the back of the ambulance, more happy than I had ever expected myself to be about getting a bullet removed from my arm. I pulled up my sleeve to examine my freshly dressed wound, trying to ignore the distressing amount of dried blood and dirt that I seemed to be covered in. I hated being dirty.

I felt Spencer approaching before I even looked up. I spoke, startling him. “Did you watch the video?” I asked plainly, glancing up at him. He stopped in his tracks, blinking and quickly sweeping his tongue across his lips. 

“I did.” He responded sheepishly.

“So… you know?” I wasn’t even embarrassed anymore, just tired. Exhausted and in need of a shower and a warm bed.

“I did.” He grabbed my arm with his opposite hand, hesitating before sitting down beside me.“Y/n?”

I looked at him more directly, shrugging my shoulders as a response.

“I don’t know who this… Heather, person is… but what I do know is I’ve loved you for six years, four months, and eight days.” He choked out, his voice cracking harshly on the word love. My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. “You’re the only one I’ve seen since the day you started here.”

Tears brimmed the corner of my eyes just like they had before, but this time for a very different reason. I exhaled shakily, but my face was lit up.

“Say it again.” I asked, my voice as fragile as glass and lower than a whisper.

He swallowed “I…I love you, Y/n. I-”

“Shh,” I placed my index finger against his lips. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Then, I replaced my fingers with my lips, connecting us together in something I’ve dreamed of since I’ve met him. Is it possible I dreamed it into reality? He was tense, but melted quickly melting into me. His hands immediately tangled themselves in my messy hair. Time stopped, but the beating of my heart intensified. He parted his lips and pressed my tongue against the seam of mine, I granted him access and I felt him wash over me in waves. Every breath I took anchored me to reality while somehow awakening all of my senses that had been so badly clouded by Daniel. He smelled of autumn and cologne, the expensive one I bought him for Christmas. 

I tasted my own salty tears on his lips and I wished that he would kiss them away, or hold me until in his arms the sun dried them.

“I love you,” I whispered for the very first time, breaking apart from him and resting my forehead against his. The logical side of me knew that everyone was watching. But when I opened my eyes, all I could see was him.

“I love you…” I cried almost silently, feeling his arms snake around my waist. I wrapped mine around him and nuzzled my head into his shoulder, my tears darkening his shirt. I could say it out loud now, and I would continue to say it until my vocal chords broke. “I love you.” It was like a mantra. A reminder.

“I love you too.” He reciprocated quietly, and it was the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard in my life. 

I remembered the dream I had earlier today. My grandparents’ house in a little town outside the city. It was beautiful, and I needed to take him there. He needed to see the place that he met me inside my mind, the scene that kept me alive. 

But for now, I needed to ask a different question.

“Can you stay with me tonight?” I asked shyly, not daring to look at him in the eyes. “I… I don’t want to be alone.” Not anymore.

He didn’t respond at first and I got increasingly worried that I overstepped with each moment of silence. But when I finally pulled away, I saw he was smiling. He immediately pulled me into another kiss. Against my lips he spoke.

“You never have to be alone again.”

-

The End


End file.
